Car Camping at Elkmont

Last month I took my grandson on his 2nd. camp out. We spent the night at Elkmont in the Great Smoky Mountains and a blast. The weather was still warm, but an evening shower cooled things off. Car camping isn't my favorite thing, but he's 6, so we're not quite ready to head deeper into the woods yet. We worked on some basics, like setting up the tent, preparing the wood needed for starting the fire, and then basic fire building. 

Once the fire was going, we  started preparing the ingredients for our "Hobo Stew". A chopped onion, ground beef, sliced potato, liberally soaked in mustard and ketchup, is cooked in a cast iron skillet over the fire for 30 minutes. Harry declared it a success.

   

Before bedtime, we read a little Tom Sawyer by the fire. 

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee.

After a good night's sleep (for Harry) we packed up, made sure the site was clean, and hit the road for home. 

How I Spent Spring Break 2011

I hadn't been on a trail since last fall, so the prospect of hiking 17 miles over 3 days didn't exactly thrill me. Being on the trail with Will Bukkock and Bryan Kerr on their spring break was too good to pass up though. Will picked the trails and so on St. Patricks Day we headed to Bryson City to begin our journey.

We parked outside the tunnel on the Lakeshore Trail and started for campsite 71 using the Whiteoak Branch Tr. to the Forney Creek Tr. It was about 5.2m and not a very difficult hike. We arrived after about 2 hours and pitched camp in the old CCC work camp beside Forney Creek. There was plenty of wood, which the guys gathered, and the weather was in the 70's and sunny. In fact the weather was perfect for the entire trip.

There was good conversation along the trail and the campfire, covering all sorts of topics. That's thing about hiking, it lends itself to talking about life one minute, then whatever pops into your head to keep one foot in front of the other the next.
The guys are 21 and I'm crowding 50 so they weren't working at keeping there feet moving quite as hard as I was. At least not on the first day out.

That night the moon came out and was the brighest it's been in 20 years (I believe that's what I heard) at any rate it was HUGE. Will loves to take photos and the ones pictured are by him. He shot the moon and the old chimney at about 10pm and you can see how bright the moon was. They're really great shots.

The guys had given me a hard time about bringing some winter fleece and longjohns during such warm weather, but that night I was glad that I had them. The temps dropped down and I was quite comfortable as far as warmth goes. I tossed and turned all night as I usually do when sleeping on the ground, but since I started using a full length pad, it's been better.

The Death March

The next day we packed up around 11 and hit the trail after breakfast at 11:30. Thus began a 4 mile journey that felt to me like what hiking in Tibet would feel like. We made about a mile an hour for those 4 miles. It was one on those hikes I hadn't had in a long time. The kind I would have turned around and scrapped if I'd been alone. The kind I didn't know if I would finish. I really try to avoid those these days, but like life, you can't always avoid the unpleasant, nor perhaps should we. It's amazing what you can do if you have to. I wasn't turning back, I knew it would end at some point and I thought of what it would be like in a new camp, eating dinner and enjoying the rest of a cigar by the fire. I prayed, I ran through the eucharistic prayer service, quoted some movies to myself, and prayed some more. hiking in pain is very much like life sometimes. You're just not sure how it's going to work out, but it will. This was the Springhouse Branch Tr. to campsite 64 and at the 4 mile mark it levels out and begins a 3 mile descent. I have these great water proof shoes by Merrill that I love. Love on flat ground that is. On long hard hikes the left shoes rubs a toe and the pain really detracts from the enjoyment and for some reason I keep forgetting that. I'd hiked this trail with some other masochists a few years ago, and the memory of that hike hike flooded back. My bag was too heavy, my shoe hurt my toe, wah wah wah, I know, but still these are the thoughts rattling around in my head while plodding along. The guys were out of sight for long stretches, which was fine. A hike is what it is. It isn't a competition, those days are behind me. I just want to finish well. AND THAT is what I began thinking about. As a pastor I too often find myself comparing what I do with what other pastors are doing. Who is more effective? Who's getting faster results? It's not a competition, it is life and the object is to glorify God and finish well. Along the way you will hurt, you will laugh, you will cry, you will get distracted by all kinds of thoughts and activities (just as my thoughts while hiking unfold), and by God's grace you come back again and again to who you really are because of Him and in Him. I want to get to that fire. I want to relax with friends over dinner. One foot in front of the other. Stop. Take 5 minutes, unshoulder the bag. Drink some cold water. Eat a snack. Okay, up and away.....and so the miles stack up behind me.

Now that line of thinking took me over some rough spots last Friday. They aren't new thoughts, just thoughts that need to be reminded of. That's why I hike with guys and sometimes alone. The physical activity of hiking to experience the views and the time around the fire, mirrors my life in other places. The space created by going creates space to think, pray, encounter God and people in a new way.

We reached the site after about 6 hours and set up the tents. here I have to thank Zach Stone for my Big Agnes tent. It's 3 lbs of home on your back, and room to stretch out in. He gave it to me before he left for England and it is a great tent.
We built a huge fire, had dinner and talked about all kinds of things as we unwound. My shoulders were killing me and I was starting to stiffen up. If I didn't feel better the next day I really didn't know how I'd get my bag back with me.

I spent the time before bed finishing The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis, which is a very small lightweight book (not theologically) and then it was time to sleep. I slept GREAT! I think I woke up once and the next day felt ready to go. Shoulders were better, legs felt good, and nothing in front of us except 4.2 miles of wide flat trail. The Noland Creek Tr took us less than 2 hours and brought us up 3/4 of a mile from th truck. The guys shucked their packs and ran to get it while I sat watched folks unloading their horse trailers. I would have liked a rocking chair, but all in all it was just fine.

While many students head to the beach for all kinds of activities, these 2 guys spent 3 days with an old guy talking about, among many other things, life in Christ and asking what it means when we say we will follow Jesus, that we might love well instead of just looking to be loved. I'm not knocking those other kinds of trips, I've gone myself and had a blast, but I'm thankful for trips like this one.

Thanks to Will Bullock for letting me use his photo's for this article!

God Showing Off

Part of what I get to do with college guys as a campus missioner is take them on journeys into the mountains. Today some students from Knoxville College went with me to see the mountains as the leaves continue to explode in colors. It was good for these guys to get off campus. They don't have cars, so all they see of their home away from home is their campus world. Wayne is a freshman from London, Bobbyson is from Haiti, and Joram is Rwandan. I was wondering how they would enjoy a drive in the mountains. Would it be boring? I mean when I was kid (granted I was a lot younger than these guys) my folks would take me for a drive in the mountains and all I remember is begging to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. The trees and the mountains just did nothing for me. I needn't have worried. These guys were hungry for new sights and God just plain showed off today. We saw Newfound Gap and Oconoluftee Farm, which is a museum of what a 19th century farm would look like. After the farm it was over to Cherokee NC for a lunch at Garlic Knotts in Maggie Valley. We didn't have any deep spiritual conversations, we just drove and looked, and drank in what God was doing in the leaves and trees, the valleys and peaks and I was told by each that it was a perfect day, the best day ever. It was some time, a little gas, and basically just each of us showing up. God did the rest.

Living Peculiar

Today I went to the mountains with Zach. He's an outdoor guy. Zach climbs mountains all over the world, and used to work at one of the local outfitters here. He goes to Oxford now, the one in England, and while he was home on a visit he wanted to get together and hike to a place he'd not been to before. So I immediately thought of Charlie's Bunion on the AT. The thing about a hike with a friend is that it calls for the "windshield time" driving to the mountains and that's where good conversation took place. I haven't seen Zach in a year and it gave us time to catch up, even ease into talking about things that matter about living life. We hiked the 4 miles in an hour and a half, talking about life here and in grad school at Oxford and stopped to have lunch and take in the Bunion. It's a beautiful place, one of the first hikes I ever made 10 years ago when I started and one I love introducing people to. It's good to have a place like that, where the beauty is so great you just want to share it. Of course most things of value require a price and for me right now, with my aches, sore muscles are the price. There's time too though. You have to make the space in your day for beauty. We climbed out on the outcropping a little way to eat while some ladies threatened to call our mothers and tell on us for being crazy. It really wasn't that dangerous or crazy, but I can see how it might appear that way. I think there's a lesson there for the way to live everyday too. If you're trying to live in a way that isn't just about self, isn't just about playing it safe, I guess there will always be folks that think you're peculiar.

As we hiked down we passed the ladies again and one remarked that she didn't know how people could deny the Lord at work when you could see what we'd just seen. I agree.

Walkin' and Talkn'

I headed up to Mt. Sterling today with Bryan and Thomas to enjoy a good hike before UT starts up. It was great weather and the 2 miles up helped work up an appetite for the peanutbutter sandwiches. The fire tower gave us a great view but the fog was rolling through, covering the scenery. Even though we couldn't see everything, it was all there, and we were in the middle of it. That's a lot like life is down below. The best part of being up there was, as usually is the case, the conversation with friends.

Better Than A Ghost Story

Just took my 12 year old son on an overnight to campsite 18 an the West Prong Trail. There's a great secluded site across the creek and there were no campers at all last night so we had the creek to ourselves. Someone had left a pair of wet New Balance sneakers in camp and I sat them on a log near the creek. We messed around in the creek and then gathered wood and had dinner. Before dark we had a few games of chess and then it was time to settle in for the night. Ben asked for a ghost story but I couldn't think of any. I need to read a few or make some up before we head out again. I shined my light around camp before turning in and as I did, I saw two eyes reflecting back at me about 4 feet off the ground. I asked Ben if he could see them too. He was in the tent and had to maneuver around and then he saw them. "Do you think it's a deer?" I told him a deer wouldn't get that close, and they weren't moving, just watching. The tension mounted and and then he said what he'd been afraid to ask all along. "Is it a bear?" I told him it could be...(tension mounts).... or it could be......the reflective strip on the heels of those shoes I put on that log.
Now I will have to confess that I had a half second of concern myself when I first caught them in my light. So if you venture to #18 and can't think of good story, see if there isn't a pair of New Balance sneakers on a log you can use.

Creating Space

This summer I decided to kick off the 75th anniversary of the park with a trip to the Chimneys. I'd never been there before. Each month I go on a 24 hour silent retreat with other clergy guys in Knoxville and those trips to a Maggie Valley retreat center were suspended for the summer. I really like them and while it may seem strange if you have never practiced silence as a spiritual discipline, I have found they really create space for God to show up. I decided to go alone to spend a night at Elkmont and hike the Chimneys.
Sweet mother of Horace Kephart, that is a trail that just never seems to stop going up! I mean you go around a bend thinking "okay, this has got to be getting close" and then you see what to my fatigued brain looks like another 2 miles of straight up. Now keep in mind that I have taken a self-imposed vow of silence for 24 hours. Not a problem in camp alone, but I like to be a friendly guy on the trail. I keep passing folks and find that I am stretching to find ways of communicating friendliness to other hikers. That in itself was exactly the kind of thing I like about creating new space, but it was a challenge. I found that giving my Davy Crockett grin was the best I could do. As I was close to gasping for breath with every step anyway, I imagine folks thought I was too tuckered out to speak (which was true). I finally reached the top and climbed to about 40 yards of the summit and that was it.I looked at the last stretch and thought getting up the rock face was doable, but getting down was another matter. I was alone too, so who would know where to hunt for my mangled body? Plus I would surely scream as I fell and that would break my vow of silence. A conundrum to be sure. I stared at the last 40 yards and was reminded of the episode of Bonanza where Little Joe was tracking the mountain lion and lost his gun on a mountain top and was frozen with fear, you know the one I'm talking about. He gets down but has to explain to everyone where his rifle is, but he doesn't want to tell about being afraid of heights. That's what i'm thinking as I'm frozen there inching up that rock. What can I say, I'm an only child and I watched a lot of tv as a kid. So I bag it, deciding that today this is as far as I'm going. On the way down I meet a nice couple coming up. They look inquisitive and friendly. "Here we go again, big grin, out of breath, smile and nod." Young man says "been to the top?" I shake my head no. 'Will you take a picture of us?" I make a gesture that I can't speak and they begin to look at me with sympathy. I take the picture grinning away and hand back the camera. That's when they make some kind of sign gestures and ask if that means "thank you". They think I'm deaf. At this point I break my vow , whispering, "I don't know, I just can't talk." Now they're embarrassed and probably thinking I have a bad case of laryngitis. Perhaps I'll get a card that says "I'm an anglican priest who has taken a vow of silence.

SECOND TRIP- FATHER/DAUGHTER HIKE
A week later I took a day to spend with my daughter and one of her friends came too. We set up camp at Elkmont and headed fro the Chimneys. "Okay Little Joe if you can do it, so can I." To the top full speed ahead! The hike has the same effect on them. They are 15 and I'm 48, I figured they would have boundless energy, but not so. This 2 mile hike is a kicker, but I know the payoff is at the end. My daughter is not a camper, nor a hiker, and it took a threat to stop paying her cell phone bill to get her there, but I knew that it could be great. I just don't want to look back in 10 years and not have tried this with my girls. I take UT students every month and they love it, but I really want to share what is out there with my kids. When they got to the top, and it is like being on top of the world, they were amazed. My daughter then gave me the best fathers' day present ever, when she said "thanks for bringing us here dad."
That's when I wanted to go for the top,but she said flat out, if I did this would be our last trip. She doesn't like heights. A storm was coming across the mountains and so retreat seemed the better part of valor. As we got to the base of the rocks it hit and we were soaked to the bone by the time we reached the car, but even that didn't dampen the experience. We'd had an adventure and so it was back to camp for dinner, fireflies and smores.

THIRD TRIP'S A CHARM-FATHER/SON HIKE
I've just returned from my third trip to the Chimney's. This time with my 10 year old son. Camp is set up at Elkmont and back to the Chimney's. Little Joe took 3 times to conquer his mountain too on Bonanza. "Is this going to be hard?, how much further?, How many more minutes?, I'm tired, can we stop?" And so it went. This would not be a silent retreat. I knew that if he would just trust me through 2 miles of straight up, he'd be a different kid. We got to the ridge, you know, the part that looks like it was in the Lord of the Rings with the roots of the tree spreading all over the ground, and then he saw it. We messed around for awhile as I let go of my own fears for him and saw this as one of those moments when a boy steps out and I needed to let him. It comes in different ways at different times, kids are different, but I thought this was his time. He was willing and the odd thing was, so was I. I caught myself starting to tell him to stay put while I did something that I out of reflex I didn't want him to risk. I stopped and I think we both matured a little right then. We made our way to the summit, and looked down the Chimney's big cracks, the hole that I assume is part of the reason they're called the Chimney's. All of the complaints going up were forgotten, in fat he even said it was worth it all. You have to keep in mind, his only other hikes have been Laurel Falls and Kephart Prong trails. I loved the look on his face at the top.
I have one more child to go. My 16 year old daughter has yet to see the top of the Chimney's and soon I hope, we'll create the space for the experience. New driver's license and new job will crowd her schedule, but I still pay the cell phone bill.

If you don't keep a journal of your mountain adventures with your family, I highly encourage you to start. He watched me writing about our day and asked if he could keep one too. Mine reads like this blog more or less, with time and temp thrown in and one day, after I've made my last hike, I bet it will be pulled out and read around the campfire to grandchildren. But that's a little more space than I am ready to create right now.

Mt. LeConte Lodge Overnight

I don't have any folksy stories to relate today, just wanted to record my first trip overnight at the lodge. It was supposed to be good weather going up Friday, but the cold and rain stayed around and we made a foggy hike up Alum Cave trail and on to the Lodge. I like the fog about as much as I like the clear days. That's what makes them the Smokies after all. It was in the 40's when we left about 2:15 and we arrived at Mt. Leconte at 5pm. We had an hour to rest before dinner. I was with a group of about 10 guys and we stayed in one of the larger cabins. I was surprised how comfortable and warm it was. The food is GREAT, and the staff too. Last night we sat around the lodge, which was filled with folks from all over. Some folks played cards others talked, while some of sat and sang all the bluegrass songs we could remember. There were some folks from Alabama that even sang along on Rocky Top! We had a great night. Someone said it dropped down to 17 degrees during the night but it was warm in the cabin. This morning I got up about 8 and hiked up to the cliff tops. I was bummed because my camera batteries were dead and I'd have no record of the trip. When I went to look at the t-shirts they sell I found batteries! Now I could climb up the .02 to Cliff Tops and take some shots. The frost covered the trees up there and the view was great.

The hike down started us on a treacherously icy trail. We passed loads of folks heading up and as the weather warmed we started shucking the coats and polar fleece. It was 43 when we left the top. It took a little longer getting down with the ice but it was a beautiful hike.

I have never stayed up there before, I had done a day-hike 10 years ago, but this was an amazing trip. I went with some guys who are in CLC groups in Knoxville, which is a men's 2 year bible study, and they had an extra spot open up so I jumped on. I am so glad I did.

Best Trip Yet...and the scariest 10 minutes of my life yet too.

I just got home from taking my boy on our first backpacking trip to the Smokies. I go about once a month, usually to Kephart shleter, with UT students (I do campus ministry) because you can get there after classes let out and get set up before it gets dark, but this was my 10 year old's first overnighter with me. He's heard me talk, seen the pictures, made some day hikes, but this was the first time into the woods overnight.
When I was his age I was too busy screaming to get my folks to take me to the Rebel Corner or the knife shop in Gatlinburg, to enjoy the actual mountains. How could you stand and stare at a view from Newfound Gap when there's a giant alligator waiting at the putt-putt, or a real bear in a cage in Pigeon Forge to see? Camp out?... and miss 10 minutes at Hillbilly Village or Gold Rush Junction? I am so glad to report that something must have skipped in our genetic code because he actually loved the mountains. He kept stopping at the water rushing in the creek, looking at the huge trees uprooted along the trail, the railroad ties and old parts scattered along the CCC site. "Dad look at this!" Have you ever seen a rock like this? No? Well what if we found gold? And so it went. We arrived at the shelter after an hour's walk and found about six guys from Ga. Southern on spring break in the mountains. They were the nicest, most polite shelter mates you could ask for. Way to go guys.
Ben went straight to the creek and the adventures were on, but after about 20 minutes he was out on a pad sleeping in the sun.
We relaxed and my buddy read the kids some of the trail lore from the "brown book". I pulled out my trail journal and read a few entries that began 10 years ago with my first trip with this very same friend who got me started in the Smokies. We had taken some guys from my high school youth group in FL. to... yep, Kephart shelter.
More creek playing and then some wood gathering. Ben thought it might be time to get the orange shovel and take care of some business, but...... hey it was his first trip, and there were people within 2 miles.
I wanted to let Ben make a fire using the swedish firestarter and dryer lint to catch the spark. he goes at it forever and the stuff will not catch. I saw this happen to Bear Grylls once but after the commercial he ahd a fire going. Finally he hands it to me because his hands are tired. He was really squeezing that little piece of steel. It takes me awhile to get it going too, and I determine that tomorrow he gets another shot no matter how long it takes. I want him to have that sense of accomplishment and the story to tell. I mean what is cooler than starting a fire without matches?
We got the Mountain House meals going and the Chilli Mac was, if I may say, superb. The broken flip flop in the shelter would probably be superb if it were prepared right (with bacon) because doesn't food just taste great in the mountains? After dark it was marshmellows on a stick, which is always a hit and a cup of instant Maxwell House. I have got to get a titanium coffee press. The stars were brilliant and the weather was perfect. The kids bedded down by 9, as did the college guys, who ....just went to sleep. No goofy jokes, or endless talking until 2am. They must have been tired because they were out. David and I sat by the fire and talked about God, life, our kids and wives, what it means to live into those things and about 11 that was it for us too. A truly great day.

This morning we eat, and Ben gets another crack at the fire starter. I'm nervous like it's bottom of the ninth and he's staring at a 3-2 pitch, but I know he can do it. I walk off and let him have at it without an audience. Man, he is still going at it, so as I wander back the spark catches, (note to self: get fresher dryer-lint) and he's made his first fire. We pack up and the college guys have hit the trail. It has been a great trip. Ben even swept the shelter without being asked (why didn't I take a picture of that?) . We stack some wood for the next folks, paying it forward, and each of us said a thank you prayer for our time together. I'm checking my gear and Ben asks to head down to the creek one more time. I thought I said no, but got distracted. I actually didn't mind him going, but I didn't want him getting his feet wet before we walked out. I see him bound down the trail to the creek and we load our gear on.

The Scariest 10 minutes of My Life (so far)

We head about 20 yards down the trail, and stop too yell at him to get a move on. The creek is loud and so I yell louder. Nothing. I get a little steamed, thinking it would be nice if he would listen to me in front of my friend, because his kids are right there ready to go (it's all about me you know). I get to the creek and there is no sign of my boy. I can see up and downthe creek, I am shouting now, because I remember he was wearing that pack and he likes to jump on the rocks. My buddy comes down and his look of concern jacks up my concern. We're shucking our packs and now I am in the middle of the creek on a rock, but my foot shoots off a rock like it has ice on it, and that's when it hits me. If that happened to him with that pack on his back...., well even writing this gets my heart racing all over again. He could have gotten on the other side and wandered off, but I see nothing and and I am REALLY shouting now. Still no answer. How can we go from the best trip ever to this? I mean it is just as if I had blinked and awakened in another reality. As I scrambled back onto the bank I shoot up "please God, give me my son" and the girls on the trail yell "Here he is". (it doesn't always work like that, but still..)

Daniel Boone had taken to the trail a little ahead of us, and upon hearing me shout, had plodded back. God gets a huge thank you, and Ben gets squeezed until an eye bugs out. I am just too happy to be mad. He was doing what a boy does, and while that isn't always the best thing, sometimes not the right thing, it is understandable. It is a teaching moment. For both of us.

It again becomes the best trip ever, and nothing I could say would probably make him understand the flood of emotions I had just experienced. He was having a great time, thinking we were right behind him while he was blazing the trail. I guess this is what my folks missed out on while I was at the Rebel Corner and Hillbilly Village.

As we walk out he asks me "When can we come back?" I start to say after the doctor clears me, but figure the humor would go over his head. "Very soon son, very soon.".

A Night at Kephart Shelter and a Walk Down Kephart Prong Trail Dec 17/08

Yesterday I went to Kephart Shelter with some friends from UT who have never been there before. It may not have seemed like a great day for an overnighter in the Smokies, but I think a rainy day in the mountains beats a dry day down here, so we were off ona rainy adventure. The walk was easy enough in a drizzling rain at about 50 deg. My main worry was a fire. I had the pocket rocket for cooking, but a fire sure picks up your spirits when the rain is coming down. I hadn't been to the shelter since 2004, so this is the first time I have seen the renovated building,. The last time I was there, the mice ran the joint. That was something my friends were not thrilled to hear and I was glad I hadn't mentioned the mice until we arrived.

Fortunately there was big log in the fireplace already and with some dryer lint and a few sticks of fatwood the dead branches , soaked as they were, began to dry and catch. We had our fire the entire time we were there and left that log and some fatwood chips for the next one to sojourn through. We sat around the crackling warmth and talked about past trips in the mountains, the ups and downs of the first semester in college and a little of what life is all about.
I had about the best night's sleep I have had in a shelter, with nary a mouse in sight or sound. Truly not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse trying to eat through my coat pockets. I think we were out from 9 to 9 and then it was breakfast and back down the trail.

I have used the shelter several times but always arrived from Sweat Heifer Trail. This was the first time I had come in through the old CCC camp side. I noted the CCC remains along the way as the "Brown Book" points out. One of a my friends, a college freshman asked about the CCC and it's purpose so I explained the effects of the depression and then the coming war. He was quick to note that current conditions reminded him of that and it was interesting to think about all that had happened through the years as the camp was reduced to foundation stones. I wonder if I would have done better in economics class if my professor had taken us on a field trip to a CCC camp? Well, rain or no rain it was a great time. I can't speak for my friends but I enjoyed the trip through time past chimneys and old railroad ties, and I think they did too.

Playing Hooky With Dad

He thought he was in school for the day but I checked him out an hour after school started and we were off to see snow. We had sort of a rough morning getting out of the house on time for school. Food not eaten fast enough, hair not combed, chasing the cat around instead of putting on shoes, that sort of thing. By the time we got to school we were okay, and he was set for the usual Friday 4th grade routine. The idea to show him snow (we've lived in Florida 12 years and he really hasn't seen it) hit me shortly after I got home.
I like to think that I am one of the cool dads, a good dad, and while I do get some things right, I really blow it much more than I care to admit. But today was a good day. Today I think I got it right. He had that great bewildered look on his face when he came into the office. "Did I do something wrong?" "I don't think I have a doctors appointment today dad." I told him he had an appointment with me and in the parking lot I clued him in on the destination. You would have thought I had given him a trip to Disney World and a free Wii. Maybe they were going to start learning the metric system or study the baroque period later in the day, I don't know, but a trip to see some snow made his day. Mine too

Gas-$10
PB&J sandwiches- $2 (we use Jif)
Ben saying "Dad, I am so excited I am speechless"......priceless

Farewell To A Much beloved Hiking Stick

I hiked up to Alum Cave Bluff today with my friend Thomas. It was about 25 deg. according to my handy keychain thermometer and the snow was beginning to flurry. I haven't been on this trail in 10 years and with the weather being what it is I didn't quite know if the views would be available. Along the way we encountereed a few hikers, a nice couple from Baton Rouge who warned of the ice ahead and the possibility of some hand and knee crawling up the stairs through the arch. But I had my stick, the one my dad made me about 10 years ago, that makes me feel like either Moses or Gandalf as i plod along. It is the modern substitute for the longrifle that my ancestors probabaly leaned on as they took in the views when they walked the trails. At least that what Fess parker always did on Daniel Boone. Anyway, that stick had my initials carved in it and some other talismans my dad thought apprpriate, like UT and West High School, and Young Life, along with the cool medallion of the AT that I had at the top. It was straight and smooth, with my leather cord running through it, and it was just the right thickness to give you confidence when you put your weight on it. It gave that notion of safety as if a stick could deter any rascally encounters with miscreants and varmints. It saw me to the top and I didn't have to resort to hands and knees once. We reached the cave where a few folks were just leaving. After the obligatory PB&J and granola bar, with the wind whipping around and my hands frozen from wet gloves, it was time to take a few snapshots for posterity. We watched the skies clear and the sun break through over the mountains and it was just a great day to be on a mountain. I stood there leaning on my faithful hiking stick and thanked the Good Lord for a great view and a friend to share the journey with. We made it down (don't get ahead of me, I still had my stick) without much trouble, though the ice was a bit trickier down than up. That old stick just took my weight as I crept down the slippery slope and we took in some views that, though hazy on the way up, were clear and breathtaking on the way down. You can see my pictures, I'm speaking gospel here. It was a beautiful day. A couple of times I just the camera on a limb and as it twisted a little it snapped the perfect picture of my buddy Thomas and me with the picture clear as a bell. Yep, it was that kind of a day.

When we hit the bottom the sun was shining and we thought we may as well see the view from Newfound Gap, so I laid my stick against the rear of the van and set down my pack and changed my boots for driving. I grabbed my backpack and we headed off (you saw it right there didn't you? If only I had) The views from Newfound Gap were awesome, and after my camera battery died we decided it was time to head back to Knoxville. My kids would be anxious to see the pictures of the snow (they were raised in Florida), and Thomas was going to get to rub it in on his roomates that while they were trapped in a classroom, he'd spent the day in the high country. We drove past where we had parked at Alum Bluff Trail without a thought, my wife called to ask how the day had been and oblivious to the actual state of things, I said "fine". It was when we hit Chapman Highway I suddenly felt the pang of loss. I knew my stick was gone before I asked Thomas to take a look, but i asked anyway. Sure enough she was left behind. It probably laid there helpless as we whistled on past heading home with the bluegrass playing. Like that person in the TV commercials who has fallen, but she can't get up, it laid there on the frozen pavement, forgotten.

I know it's a just a stick, and my dad lives to make stuff like that, so I'll have another, but I'd be lying to you if I said it didn't discombobulate me all way back. You're reading this thinking,"why wouldn't anyone foolish enough to come home and write this story before he uses the Granpa's Pine Tar Soap, just turn around and go get his dang hiking stick? I'll grant you that I thought about it, and with gas prices dropping the temptation was powerful, but I had hit the coming home traffic, Thomas was ready to get home, and so there you have it, I consigned it to the Park, where perhaps I can pay it forward. Perhaps some UT, West High grad who went to Young Life will see it there and know that it was providence. Or, maybe some stranded visitor whose car battery fails will find it to be the piece of dry wood they are desperate for to start a life-giving blaze.
I'll say this, and then leave you to ponder your own losses, or perhaps go to the corner and check on the safety of your own trusty companion, it would take more than a lost piece of wood to take anything of real value away from todays journey up to Alum Bluff Cave with a good friend. (but if you happen to run across her, just shoot me a post on GoSmokies)

A Night @ Spence Field

Just got back from an overnight at Spence Field shelter. There were bear warnings and closing of shelters and campsites all around, but no bears crossed our path. The coyotes howled through the night though. The temp was very warm during the night, not freezing as I had expected. I was with 4 UT students who had never been to Spence Field before and we all enjoyed the hike. It was a tail kicker for me though being a good bit older than my friends. Actually I think it kicked them a little too. It took us about 4 hours to get from Cades Cove parking lot to the shelter an about 3 to get down on Sunday. The highlight was a brief communion service in the field using a grove of trees for our gathering and a large rock for the table.

We had the shelter to ourselves which surprised me given the great weather. There were two female hikers getting water and eating but they were passing through. The last time I was on this trail was 10 years ago to the day. It all came back to me as I limped along and I remembered swearing never again to undertake this hike. I was new to backpacking then and my pack was probably 50 lbs with every stitch of warm clothing I thought I might need and a big belt knife that weighed about 2lbs. I took it in case we had to fight off ninjas or if I started to freeze and caught pneumonia I could reenact Bowie's death scene at the Alamo. I recall geting so frustrated that my legs were like rubber that I chucked it off into the woods. Then embarassed that I had to retrieve it because I have had it for twenty years. That hike the weather had been clear at Cades Cove, turning to sleet and snow as we made our way from Russel to Spence field. This trip was nothing like that. I learned a few things over the years and they all had to do with weight.
I wish I had learned something about conditioning. While the hike was strenuous I made it without praying for God to strike me dead as I had 10 years ago and had a blast. It is tonight at home that my legs are like rubber and my back is sending me signals, telling me that if I try that again without some exercise it is going to teach me a lesson I won't forget.